


Disavowment (He cannot)

by Haggsy



Series: Disavowment [2]
Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Denial, First Kiss, Homophobic Language, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-20 14:16:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19993585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haggsy/pseuds/Haggsy
Summary: “There it was. Harry was disappointed, but then he could see that this wasn’t what Eggsy had wanted to say, and he had seen the other one looking, blushing, admiring, and he decided to, for once in his pathetic lonely life, to take a chance.”Harry is sure that Eggsy reciprocates his feelings, but when he tries to act on them, he sees a side of him he didn’t want to see.





	Disavowment (He cannot)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for the kudos on the first work in this series and especially to the nice people who motivated me to write more for this story.
> 
> This is written from Harry’s point of view, and though lighthearted in the beginning, this story contains homophobic and vulgar language, so please don’t read if this troubles you.

They were four martinis in when it happened. They had moved from Harry’s study to the living room about two hours ago, after Eggsy’s first lesson in “being a gentleman” (which had cost them half a bottle of spilled gin and one of Harry’s best crystal glasses).

Despite the older man’s best efforts (“A gentleman does not disgrace himself by _slouching_ in public”) Eggsy had ended up with his feet on Harry’s expensive but surprisingly comfy leather sofa, while the host was sat on a worn-out armchair. He held himself just as gracefully as he had on the sofa in the tailor shop, legs crossed and fingers playing with the rim of his glass.

At first, Harry had felt a bit self-conscious about his home, allowing someone (especially someone as important as this man) into this personal part of his life; but the drinks had left him pleasantly fuzzy-headed.  
Eggsy was in a similar state of dizziness, if his pink cheeks and glossy eyes were anything to go by.  
Harry threw an almost bashful smile in Eggsy’s direction, tongue worrying at his bottom lip in a decidedly un-Harry manner.  
He didn’t know what he had expected of their twenty-four hours together. He knew, of course, what he’d hoped for, but…

“I… really like you, Eg-Egssy” he said with only a minimal slur. “I thought you were just another one of those self-pitying boys, blaming everyone but themselves for their failures. But you’ve proven me wrong, young man. You have worked hard for reaching your goal, and I think…” _I think you are the kindest, most honest and lovable creature I’ve ever seen._  
“I think now your father would be proud of you.”

He closed his little speech by standing up and walking over to the little sofa, where he sat down again. Eggsy swallowed hard and it almost seemed to Harry that he was wiping a tear out of his eye.

“Fuck, Harry, you can’t just tell me emotional shit like that. I…really appreciate what you’ve done for me, y’know? You really are…”

What was Eggsy going to say? A mentor? A friend? Surely it wouldn’t be what Harry hoped, even though he had noticed the young man staring at him and quickly looking away a few times. Even if it couldn’t be what he wanted, he only wished Eggsy wouldn’t say…

“…like a father to me.”

There it was. Harry was disappointed, but then he could see that this wasn’t what Eggsy had wanted to say, and he had seen the other one looking, blushing, admiring, and he decided to, for once in his pathetic lonely life, to take a chance.

He took Eggsy’s glass and set it on the coffee-table in one smooth move, looked at his face again and slowly said:  
“A pity. I had hoped to become something…much different to a father figure to you, Eggsy.”  
Eggsy’s eyes widened, though in shock or in pleasure Harry couldn’t make out, because he leaned over and, with much more confidence than he actually felt, pressed a kiss to the younger man’s lips.

  
At first, Eggsy seemed to, if not reciprocate, at least tolerate the touch, and Harry’s hopes were raised to an almost painful level; only to be crashed down the second after when he felt a pair of strong hands against his chest, shoving him away with such force that he fell backwards and his head dashed against the sharp edge of the coffee-table.

He stared up at Eggsy in shock, waiting for him to apologise or at least help him up, but instead the other man’s face turned an ugly shade of red and he jumped to his feet.

“What in fucking hell are you doing?” Eggsy yelled. Harry needed a few seconds to process this change from a sweetly smiling, tipsy young man to this threatening thug in front of him. He pressed a hand to his aching skull and tried to scramble to his feet.  
“Eggsy, I…I am sorry if I offended you. Please, don’t-“  
He reached out to him, but Eggsy stumbled backwards, holding his hands up in a repulsing gesture.

“Don’t you fucking touch me, pervert. You hear me!? Get your hands off me!”

His accent was all estate pleb again, as was the way he stood in the middle of the room, with his legs apart and his chest puffed out. Harry knew it was ridiculous, he was the well-trained agent after all, but yet he was afraid that Eggsy would hurt him. He wondered how everything had gone from wonderful to shit in only the amount of time that was needed for a little kiss.

“Eggsy, I understand if you don’t… return my feelings, but I’m sure there is no need-“

“Don’t return? Don’t return your feelin’s? ‘Course not, I am not a _fucking_ poofter, a’right?!”

Harry winced at the word; not only because of the obvious disgust with which it was spat at him. But also because it had been such a long time since he’d last heard it, and he had hoped never to hear it again. It brought back memories of several decades ago, of his father, shouting at him, of his mother, crying and begging him to leave, _just leave, Harry,_ and of a younger, defenceless Harry; a Harry who got beaten and kicked by the other recrutes for being such _a fucking poof…_

He’d never thought that Eggsy, his gentle, eager protegé would be the one to bring this feeling of misery and worthlessness back to him.  
He’d thought that the boy had only been raised in the wrong environment, that he only needed a bit of guidance to become the sensible person that was inside of him. But maybe Harry had been wrong. Maybe there was already too much of the streets in Eggsy than could be changed.

He looked into the young man’s face which was still flushed red, and said: “I suppose you… want to leave now. Come to the tailor shop tomorrow afternoon to complete your training. I hope you don’t feel that you have to report this- incident to Arthur.”

“So you want me to keep my mouth shut, right? What, is you doin’ this with everyone of your candidates? What did my father have to do to get the position? Did he have to suck your fucking cock or did you want more from him? I knew it, yer all the same, pervs. Always lookin’ for a new arse, huh? Don’t tell Arthur, to fuck with that!”

Eggsy grabbed his shoes and his jacket and made his way to the door, careful not to come near Harry. At the door he turned around once more, suddenly oddly calm and looking…sad?

“You know, I really liked you, ‘Arry. I wish you was different.”

When the door shut closed, Harry sat down onto the floor and started crying.

**Author's Note:**

> I am planning on more, and I’d gladly take any criticism/suggestions and ideas for the coming parts.


End file.
